


The Tale of Feanor and Fingolfin

by AliceWasNotDreaming



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Happy Ending, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-30
Updated: 2018-08-30
Packaged: 2019-07-04 12:49:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15841650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AliceWasNotDreaming/pseuds/AliceWasNotDreaming
Summary: An AU in which Feanaro and Nolofinwe do not hate each other quite so much, and bad things still happen, but not that bad.





	1. Findis is Born

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finwe wonders what Feanaro really thinks of little Findis?

Finwe strolled along the hallways of the royal palace in Tirion, humming a tune cheerfully. 'Feanaro!' he called out, poking his head in rooms along the corridor, searching for his son. 'Where are you?'

Finwe had become accustomed to having to run after Feanaro every day. The Spirit of Fire simply refused to be contained - the elfling could never focus entirely on one thing because all of them were to him easy and dull. He was always running around seeking new things to learn and master. Last week it had been cooking, and the week before that painting. Or had it been sculpture? Ah, well, knowing little Feanaro, it was probably painting _and_ sculpture at the same time. Finwe chuckled proudly at the thought. He really was an extraordinarily gifted child. Finwe loved him beyond everything - beyond, perhaps, his new wife Indis herself. (Though Finwe would never dare admit this, lest Indis be hurt and angry.)

Speaking of Indis... There was good news Feanaro should hear.

'Feanaro, dear! Come out! I have something to tell you!' Finwe called again.

This time a young elf pushed open a door at the end of the hallway, stepping out with a large volume clutched in his hands. 'Ada,' Feanaro acknowledged, his long black hair swept over one shoulder elegantly. Finwe was proud of everything about his son, and not least about his appearance - Feanaro was truly beautiful even at the tender age of 30, with his perfectly sculpted face, piercing silver eyes and graceful stature. He was almost as tall as his father now! Finwe felt sure that when fully grown he would eclipse Finwe himself, and perhaps even Manwe and Varda. He smiled. He truly was blessed, to have such a marvellous child...

'I was doing some research on marine biology, Ada,' said child explained, indicating behind himself at what was, Finwe now noticed, the library. 'It is infinitely interesting, what the authors have to say about whales and sharks and the like. They've got them so ridiculously wrong it's almost amusing.' Feanaro smirked in contempt, his lips tilted upwards in disdain. Those regal features were no less stunning and pleasing to the eye, even with those unpleasant emotions written all over them.

Finwe was not surprised at the comment. It was far from rare for Feanaro to spot mistakes in famous masters' works. 'Indeed? Then you had better correct those mistakes, yes?' he replied indulgently. 'At any rate, this is not what I have come to talk about, my dear, although I'm sure your marine biology is _most_ interesting.' Feanaro rolled his eyes not quite subtly, knowing full well that Finwe found all science subjects tiresome and boring. Finwe ploughed on, ignoring his son's scorn. 'I have come with good news! Can you guess?'

Feanaro surveyed him critically. 'Hmm,' he mused. 'Will it be that my half-sibling is born?' There was a strange light in those unnerving eyes of his.

Finwe blinked. 'Oh - you know?' he asked, surprised.

Feanaro huffed. 'Really, Ada,' he said, detaching himself from the wall he was leaning on. He twirled his book in a long-fingered hand absent-mindedly. 'Indis has been pregnant for ten months, wgat else was I to expect?'

'It might have been that I have bought you your favourite pastries from the marketplace,' Finwe suggested light-heartedly.

Feanaro sighed. 'It is seven in the morning,' he pointed out. Those sharp silvery eyes gazed at Finwe with disapproval, the obvious intelligence in them making even a simple stare look intimidating.

Finwe beamed at Feanaro, choosing to disregard the latter's less than cheery mood. 'I have always known you were a genius, my son,' he said. 'Come,' he continued, reaching down to grab Feanaro's hand. 'Let us go see your sister.'

Feanaro let himself be tugged along. 'What is her name?' he asked.

'Findis,' Finwe replied. 'She has got lovely golden hair. I think she will be very beautiful, just like Indis. But, of course, not as beautiful as you,' he added as an afterthought.

Feanaro smirked a little. 'Oh, well,' he said generously, 'we are of different genders, it can hardly be counted this way.' His smug voice, though, told everyone who was listening that there was absolutely no doubt Findis would never be half as attractive as Feanaro was!

They were quickly reaching Indis' chambers. The faint sound of a child's crying could be heard. Father and son both quickened their footsteps. Finwe thought that, despite Feanaro's appearance of nonchalance, he really was curious to meet his newest family member. He wondered, offhand, how Feanaro felt? Was he excited? Glad to have a companion and a sister? Or was he disappointed and worried Finwe's attention would be devoted less to him now and more to Findis? It was hard to tell with Feanaro. He was never one to show much happiness or sadness - indeed, the only emotions he was willing to show were the likes of anger, annoyance, irritation and frustration - so even Finwe had a hard time knowing what he truly felt sometimes.

They stopped outside the light yellow door leading to Indis' chambers. The excited chatterings of midwives almost, but not quite, masked Findis' loud wails. Through the door, Finwe heard his wife say, 'Our little princess has got quite a set of lungs. Haven't you, darling, haven't you?' The last part of the sentence was a loving coo.

Feanaro stepped forwards and pushed opened the door, stepping inside cautiously. The voices inside abruptly ceased.

'Feanaro, dear,' Indis said. Finwe stepped inside behind his son and caught the strained smile on his wife's face, still pale and exhausted from childbirth. The tension in the air was practically tangible.

'Indis,' Feanaro greeted in a carefully neutral voice. His impassive gaze travelled to the little bundle in her arms. The midwives, standing as though petrified, stared at the two with bated breath, as though half expecting them to start fighting any second.

Finwe did not quite know what to think of this. Indis and Feanaro, the two people dearest to him, not getting along - it pained the High King more than he let on. He was sure, though, that it was not Feanaro's fault - one is understandably far less cordial to a stepmother than one would be to a mother, and besides, Feanaro had done absolutely nothing to antagonize Indis. And to suggest Indis would deliberately aggravate Feanaro was ridiculous. So why was the air always so full of dangerous sparks whenever the two were near each other? Was it merely the knowledge each held that they were none too fond of the other? Was it jealousy? Or just plain dislike?

Ah, nevermind. Now was not the time to think about these things. Today was the day his first daughter was born, by the Valar! It was a day of celebration and joy.

He stepped lightly between his wife and his son, taking the still cryng baby from Indis' arms. 'See, Feanaro?' he said with a smile, holding out Findis for Feanaro to see. 'Your sister is quite a pretty little thing.' The word half-sister flashed in his mind. He pushed it away with determination.

Feanaro looked down at the golden-haired child. 'Yes. Your child is lovely indeed, Indis,' he addressed his stepmother, whose shoulders had, for some reason, tensed. She replied with another small strained smile, saying nothing.

Was Indis worried that Feanaro would hurt Findis? He could hardly believe that his wife had so little trust in Feanaro, but what other reason was there?

He saw Indis' fists clench around the white sheets when Feanaro reached out to gently caress Findis' rosy cheeks. But she had no cause to fret - the child's wails slowly ceased as Feanaro stroked, until the child was sleeping soundly after a while.

Feanaro removed his fingers, leant down to kiss Findis on the forehead, and stepped away. 'Lovely,' he repeated again with a smile firmly planted on his face. His silvery eyes caught Indis' blue ones. 'Congratulations on the birth of your daughter,' he told her. Then he reached out to hug Finwe lightly. 'And you too, Ada.'

'Thank you, dearest,' Finwe said. He did not know what to make of the formality and coolness masked behind courtesy. He could only watch as Feanaro turned and strode away from the room, his scarlet robes swirling around his feet as he left rapidly .

'Well, my love,' Indis said after several moments of silence, her voice back to its original cheerfulness. 'Are you happy with our little Findis?' She was completely relaxed now, a serene smile back on her face.

'Oh, very,' Finwe answered automatically, sitting down on the bed. He gestured for the midwives, who had been watching the scene all along with fascination and approbation in equal measure, to leave. 'But I wish you and Feanaro would get along better. He really is a nice little elfling.'

Indis' face hardened. 'Must we talk about this now, husband?' she said tersely. 'Let us focus on our baby girl for today, shall we not?'

'Oh, yes,' Finwe said hastily, realizing that it was perhaps not very considerate of him to talk of Indis' stepson on the day of Findis' birth. 'She is indeed spectacular - look, just look at her golden curls! I do believe she will be as radiant as you when she is older, my love.'


	2. Feanaro Teaches Findis Drawing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Feanaro and six-year-old Findis spend time together.

One of the first memories of Findis was her elder half-brother, bending over her crib and holding out a toy eagle for her to grasp.

Feanaro was to Findis an awesome figure, second only to her parents. Even though she was very young Findis could perceive that Feanaro was resplendent in his impossible beauty and formidable in his majestic genius. She loved him above all save Finwe and Indis, so it was only natural for her to want to spend time with such a wonderful sibling.

Findis was supposed to be learning how to paint with a master this afternoon, but she felt quite sure that her time would be better spent if she sought out Feanaro instead and made him tell her stories, just like she did the day before yesterday.

So after lunch, instead of going to her study, she sneaked out of the royal palace to the forge, where she knew her brother must be. She remembered Feanaro telling her he had discovered the glory of crafting some days after she was born and had been absorbed in it ever since. 'Now Ada doesn't have to run all over the palace to find me,' he had said with his characteristic smirk as he worked on some metal with his hammer, 'he only needs come straight to the forge.'

Findis arrived at the door to the royal forge out of breath, having run all the way there in eagerness. The heavy stone door was, thankfully, ajar, so she could slip in quietly.

Her brother was bending over a scroll and muttering to himself when she came in, but looked up when he heard her approaching footsteps. Starlit silver eyes took in the state she was in - red-faced, panting, and still, she suddenly realized, clutching her drawing utensils that she should have brought to the study. Feanaro snorted in amusement. 'Skipping lessons again, Findis?' he said, already knowing the answer. 'Really, I can't blame you. The drawing master's lessons are incredibly dull.' His eyes drifted back towards his tools and scrolls on a work bench, and Findis knew he must be thinking that crafting was infinitely superior to painting.

'Why can't you teach me crafting, Feanaro?' Findis asked with a somewhat petulant air. 'Naneth wouldn't let me learn it, no matter how hard I beg her.'

Feanaro rolled his eyes. He stood up, stretching his long, lean body as he did so, and crossed the space between them in two long strides. 'That does not surprise me in the least. Crafting is not considered a ladylike activity, after all,' he drawled as he knelt before her so she wouldn't have to crane her neck up to look at him. His sharp eyes caught sight of a piece of drawing she was holding. 'Show me,' he said, holding out a hand.

Findis backed away, suddenly shy. Feanaro, she knew, was good at _everything,_ including painting, so her childish works must be most hideous and laughable in his expert eyes. 'It's very bad,' she protested.

Feanaro laughed. 'If you were perfect at this you would hardly need a drawing master. That you have room for improvement goes without saying,' he pointed out. 'Come, show me,' he repeated.

Findis reluctantly held out her painting. He took it from her, scrutinizing it. It was quite simple, actually, a drawing of the toy eagle Feanaro gave her long ago. Feanaro definitely recognized it, judging by the small smile that graced his lips when he looked.

'It's not very bad,' he granted after a while, 'but it can undoubtedly be better.' He eyed her thoughtfully, then suddenly stood up and took her hand. 'Come, Findis,' he said, 'I'm going to teach you how to paint properly.'

Findis blinked. 'But that's no fun at all!' she protested. 'Why can't we play instead? I want you to tell me some stories!'

Feanaro huffed. 'Oh, I guarantee it will be fun, given that it is me who will be instructing you,' he promised. 'I will teach you how to draw your ada and your naneth.'

Findis blinked, momentarily diverted. 'Oh, my drawing master said I can't proceed to painting them until I have mastered painting animals,' she said. 'Do you think I can do it now?' There was eagerness in her voice. If there was one aspect of drawing she looked forward to, it was drawing the elves around her.

Feanaro scoffed. 'How ridiculous. You can draw whatever you want to,' he told her. 'Beginning with _me._ '

***

'Naneth, Ada, look!' Findis cried later that evening, hurtling full speed towards the drawing room. She clutched her newest masterpiece to her heart, careful not to crumple it. 'Look at this! Isn't it marvellous?'

'Findis!' her mother exclaimed sharply. 'Where have you been? You were supposed to have drawing lessons today!'

'And I did!' Findis told her, beaming. 'Look - Feanaro had been teaching me to draw people! He is really a wonderful teacher. Look!' She thrust her painting at her mother.

Indis took a step back, startled. 'Feanaro?' she repeated, looking disbelieving. She looked down at the painting. It was a drawing of Feanaro himself, leaning casually against a bench in the forge. The strokes were obviously childish still, but the colours were used admirably, and it had captured Feanaro's mischievous, charming air perfectly. Indis raised her eyebrows. 'It is very good indeed, darling,' she praised, Findis' delinquency forgotten for the moment. She added with grudging admiration, 'Your half-brother is _quite_ a master at this. Yes, it is quite good.'

Finwe, who had been looking over Indis' shoulder, could barely contain his delight, but it was not due to Findis' improved painting skills. 'Feanaro spent the entire afternoon instructing you, dear?' he asked Findis, his tone belying his excitement and jubilation. 'I am exceedingly glad you two get along.'

Findis smiled. She herself was secretly proud that she had managed to keep her volatile, mercurial sibling's attention for the entire afternoon. 'Feanaro is a much better teacher,' she declared. 'I would much rather learn from him than from any other drawing master!'

Her mother pursed her lips. 'Your brother is often busy,' she said tightly. 'I do not think you should bother him so often.' It was, very clearly, a refusal.

Findis' heart fell. 'Oh, but I won't take up too much of his time!' she protested, looking at her father for support. 'Feanaro himself told me he would be glad to help me with this!'

Finwe looked floored. 'Feanaro _said_ that?' he said. A smile was slowly spreading on his face.

'Yes,' Findis confirmed, 'and he told me he would start teaching me how to sculpt after my seventh birthday! Please, Ada, Naneth! May I?' She gazed up at her parents pleadingly.

Indis still looked uncertain, but Finwe was positively beaming now. 'Did he really?' he said jovially. 'Then of course you must do so. You really are lucky, dear - Feanaro is the best artist we have ever seen.' Indis threw him a sharp look, but sighed and said nothing to oppose him in the end.

Findis was ecstatic. 'Thank you!' she cried, hugging her parents in joy. It was more than she dared hope for - she could now spend entire afternoons with Feanaro, and she wouldn't even be admonished for it. For once, Findis was hardly wait for her next drawing lesson to start.

***

Indis and Finwe were silent for a while after Findis had gone.

Finally, Indis said with a sigh, 'I really cannot understand your son. I thought he does not like me and Findis?'

Finwe winced. 'I think he is actually quite fond of Findis,' he contradicted. 'And I don't think he dislikes you as much as you think. He is just - jealous that his own mother is -' Finwe did not finish the sentence.

Indis sighed again. She had never known what to think of Miriel, her husband's dead soulmate. But she could understand the pain of losing one's family. 'I'm sorry, dear,' she said gently.

Finwe spread his hands. 'It does not matter now. What is important is, my two children are actually getting along well and spending time together.' His whole face brightened at the thought. 'Oh, it really is the most _marvellous_ news.'

Indis gave him a small smile, and conceded grudgingly that it was by no means ill news.


	3. Feanaro Invents a New Language, among other things

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Findis and Feanaro continued.

Findis looked curiously at her elder brother, busily bending over some scrolls in his private study, a few books strewn around him.

It was highly unusual for Feanaro to spend even half a day away from his beloved forge, but he had been away from it for four whole days now. Some investigation, Findis thought, was warranted.

'Feanaro,' she said, 'what are you doing? Have you found a new hobby more interesting than your forge?'

'Hardly, Findis,' Feanaro replied without looking up. 'But for the moment my project requires my undivided attention, so the forge will have to wait.'

Findis raised her eyebrows, intrigued. 'The _forge_ will have to _wait_?!' she repeated, half-amused, half-disbelieving. 'What, pray tell, has got you so enchanted that the forge will have to wait?'

'I am inventing a new language,' Feanaro explained, still not looking up.

Findis walked over to where he was seated and peered over his shoulder. The queer little symbols he was meticulously writing meant nothing to her. 'Do you think people will actually use it?' she asked dubiously. It was no shock to her that Feanaro would be smart enough to achieve such a feat as devising a new language, but getting other elves to use it - especially when considering that elves were by no means appreciative of change - would not be quite so easy.

'I mean, it would be quite embarrassing, would it not, if you invented something and nobody uses it,' she continued. 'Anyway, what prompted you to do this?'

Feanaro sighed, throwing down his pen when it became clear Findis wasn't leaving. 'I suppose the idea just came to me,' he answered nonchalantly. 'And is there ever an invention of mine that people do not praise to the skies and adopt eagerly?' He flashed her a confident smile.

Findis had to admit that all Feanaro's inventions so far had proved widely popular among the Noldor. 'All the same, elves won't like having to bother to learn a new language,' she countered. 'Eru's underpants, _I_ won't like it!'

Feanaro laughed. 'Do you always use this kind of language around your parents, little sis?' he teased, turning to face her fully.

Findis shrugged. 'Sometimes Naneth catches me,' she informed, 'and she scolds me for it. But it's not like I'm swearing or anything.'

Feanaro put his hands on his hips. 'Oh, yes? Because I very clearly remember having heard you say, on several occasions, some words that are definitely _not_ ladylike,' he said in a severe tone. 'Hmm. I had better tell Ada, lest foul-mouthed princesses ruin the reputation of our noble house.'

Findis smirked. 'And I had better tell Ada about that time you stole several pairs of his earrings to experiment with, lest Crown Princes with kleptomania ruin the reputation of our noble house,' she fired back. 'By the way, what happened to those earrings?'

Feanaro bent and rummaged inside a box in the corner, then fetched out an intricately carved dagger. 'I melted those hideous things, and now they are reborn in the form of this exquisite piece of art,' he told her, spinning the dagger in his hand carelessly.

Findis stared, fascinated. The curved silvery dagger looked deadly dangerous with its sharp edge, but the design was elegance itself, and it somehow caught the light and shined brighter than many a gem. The ancient runes carved on the blade added to its aura of power and mystery.

'I like it,' she said eagerly. 'Does it have a sheath?'

Feanaro handed the dagger to her and bent once more to rummage inside his box. He fetched out a dull silvery sheath with a similar design and handed it to her also.

Findis examined them. 'They are so beautiful,' she praised. 'Such a pity that I never get to have lessons on how to master a blade. It will be so much more interesting than needlework.'

'You don't know how to fight?' Feanaro gaped. 'That is a horrifying thought. You cannot even defend yourself!'

Findis sighed. 'Naneth says there is nothing to defend myself against,' she grouched. 'It just isn't fair. Why can _you_ learn how to fight but not _me_?' She sheathed the blade and tried to twirl it like Feanaro did, but dropped it immediately.

Feanaro deftly caught the weapon and handed it back to her. 'You can have it, I have many of these,' he said with a smile.

Findis flushed with pleasure. 'Do you think I should tell Ada and Naneth?' she whispered conspiratorially.

Feanaro grinned. 'No,' he said, his eyes glinting with mischief.

Findis laughed. 'Do you think you can teach me how to fight?' she asked, struck by a sudden idea. Feanaro was an expert swordsman, an expert archer, and an expert _everything._

'No, not without everyone knowing about it,' Feanaro replied, patting her on the head lightly. 'But I can ask Ada about this, see if he would let you try out a bow, something like that.'

'I've always known you're my best sibling, Feanaro,' Findis told him with a delighted laugh as she tried twirling the dagger again clumsily. Finwe doted on Feanaro, and would grant him practically everything he requested. It was as good as done.

Feanaro rolled his eyes. 'I am your only sibling, Findis,' he huffed in fond exasperation.

***

'Ada,' Feanaro said to Finwe the next day over breakfast. 'I think Findis ought to start learning something _physical,_ like archery. It's not very healthy for an elfling to sit around all day long doing nothing.'

Finwe tilted his head. 'Yes, perhaps you are right,' he mused. 'Indis has been telling me that little girl is most eager to learn how to fight. I do think archery is a good place to start. Not too dangerous, relatively mild.' He gave Feanaro an approving smile. 'How thoughtful of you, my dear. Thank you for the suggestion.'

Feanaro smiled triumphantly. 'Not at all,' he replied. He had already known Finwe would not be opposed to anything he had to propose, especially when it was something as constructive as this, but it was still satisfying to see proof of his influence over Finwe. And he _was_ genuinely pleased that he had been able to do something for little Findis. For a spawn of a Vanyarin, his half-sister was surprisingly tolerable, likeable even. Feanaro could easily see traces of himself in her - the way she had taken to dabbling in many things, the way she refused to be contained by anyone, including her parents, the way she was fierce and outspoken in her dislikes... Though, of course, it might just be Finwe's blood that ran in her veins as well as Feanaro's.

He had grown - protective, of her. He had thought, when Findis was born, that they would never get along. And so Finwe and Indis had thought. Rightly so - Findis represented the union of Feanaro's father and someone who was _not_ his mother, something he still grudged. But perhaps it was the Noldorin appearance of Findis, who resembled Finwe and Feanaro more than she resembled Indis, or perhaps it was how Findis obviously adored Feanaro - he could not bring himself to resent the child. She was a good companion, not especially clever (though in the eyes of Feanaro hardly anyone was clever), but fun to be around. She was all Feanaro imagined a full sibling in blood ought to be, and sometimes Feanaro completely forgot that they did not share the same mother.

Finwe, he had observed, was very pleased about the relationship between his two children, while Indis was somewhat reserved. Maybe she still feared that one day Feanaro would decide Findis' presence was an insult to himself and attempt to murder her? Ah, well, it hardly mattered. Feanaro did not pretend to care what his stepmother thought or felt, and anyhow Indis' doubts did not stop Findis from seeking Feanaro out constantly. He almost felt gloating, that Findis still liked him despite her mother's disapproval. It was like he had won some kind of war between himself and Indis.

'Feanaro,' Finwe's voice brought him out of his reverie, 'what have you been doing these days? You haven't been to the forge for quite a long time. Have you lost interest?' Feanaro caught the fleeting look of worry on his father's face. He was no doubt afraid that _nothing_ would be able to hold Feanaro's attention.

'Hasn't Findis told you, Ada?' he replied (noting how Finwe brightened at the allusion to his children's close relationship). 'I have been devising a new language.' He controlled his voice so as not to sound too pleased at his achievement.

Finwe almost dropped the spoon he was holding in astonishment. 'Feanaro!' he exclaimed, a look of awe in his eyes. 'I have always known you to be a genius, but I never expected this. Is there no end to your intellect, yonya?'

Feanaro tried and failed to suppress a prideful smile.


End file.
